The Fire Mage
By the time the sun had fully set, Bagan reached the mansion and froze at the sight of Barret waiting at the entrance. She stood there with a perfectly neutral expression, polite and composed, but for Bagan—who had planned to slip inside unnoticed if she were indoors—it was a rather unpleasant surprise.
Because of it, he found himself speaking first as he approached, his tone carrying a hint of awkwardness.
“Why are you standing out here?”
It was obviously because of him, but Bagan acted as if it didn’t matter. He strode right up to her with the confidence of someone who had done nothing wrong.
“Where have you been rolling around all day?”
“Rolling? What are you talking about?”
“Your clothes are filthy. You smell, too.”
Even so, she didn’t pinch her nose or wrinkle her face. As a beastman, she should have been more sensitive to such things, yet her professional demeanor was impeccable.
Bagan glanced down at himself and decided her reaction was perfectly reasonable.
I slipped up.
He hadn’t cleaned off the traces of his monster hunt. It stood out even more because he had left that morning wearing the high-quality white casual outfit Barret had prepared for him.
“Is that blood from scraping yourself after a fall? Curiosity is fine, but please try not to injure yourself.”
“Thanks for worrying about—”
“Lord Palamus instructed that your body must be treated with care.”
Bagan had been about to express his gratitude, but stopped. She was simply delivering the command as ordered. Besides, he hadn’t actually been hurt the way she assumed. The blood and dirt on his clothes were merely remnants of the battles he’d fought—not his own.
“Let’s head inside for now. I’ll prepare the bathwater.”
“Yeah.”
Bagan followed Barret into the mansion.
“If you head to the bathroom first, I’ll bring fresh clothes.”
“Mm. I’d appreciate that.”
It looked like there were plenty of spares. Once Barret left to fetch them, Bagan made his way to the bathhouse. He had already memorized its location, making it one of the few places in the mansion he could find without help.
He waited there until she arrived, replaying the events in the Zairan Forest in his mind.
Just as I thought.
After slaying the monsters, Bagan had absorbed their mana through his Absorption trait. Not every monster carried mana, but creatures on the level of an Overhorn possessed at least a small amount. Thanks to that, the hunts that followed his first encounter had become far easier. Mana had taken root inside his body.
Mana guided the body toward improvement in every way. He hadn’t shaped it into aura or formed any circles, yet simply having it dwell within him had enhanced his physical abilities. The monsters of the Zairan Forest were no longer a threat. Without weapons, trolls or ogres might have posed a challenge, but ordinary beast-type monsters had simply become his nourishment.
He had lost count of how many Arc Wolves he’d killed—the very creatures he once believed would give him serious trouble. Bagan clenched his fist tightly, feeling the strength he had gained.
Still nowhere near enough.
Even though he felt stronger, the thought of Palamus made his progress seem pitiful. Reaching that level immediately was unrealistic anyway. No RPG let you grind for a single day and then defeat a final-boss monster.
Bagan refused to grow impatient. If he kept at it steadily like today, he would surely grow stronger. He renewed his resolve once more.
“Sorry for the wait. I’ll heat the water right away.”
“No rush. Take your time.”
At Bagan’s words, Barret bowed her head and stepped into the bathhouse. Curious how she would heat the water, he followed her inside. Normally he would have simply asked her to do it, but there was always the chance she might be unable to for some reason. In that case, he would handle it himself.
“Ah, were you curious?”
“If I can do it myself, it’ll be more convenient.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Barret didn’t seem bothered by him following her in. Bagan soon understood why.
Fireball
A sphere of flame erupted from her palm and immediately set the bathwater boiling. Such intense heat made reaching boiling point effortless. In less than five seconds the entire tub had begun to bubble. After another twenty seconds, she adjusted the temperature by turning on the cold-water tap and activated the circulation system so the water would flow evenly.
“It’s not particularly difficult. Do you think you could manage it?”
Bagan felt a sting of frustration at her question. To think he couldn’t even heat water because he couldn’t use magic—where had all the normal hot-water faucets gone?
“No. I’ll keep leaving it to you.”
He swallowed his pride and decided to rely on her. The fact that his maid was also a mage only made her seem more impressive.
“Ah, that feels refreshing.”
Barret’s bathwater, prepared with magic, eased his fatigue in a way normal water never could. Of course there was no actual magical recovery effect; it was purely thanks to his traits. Still, he needed some way to express how refreshed he felt.
“Was the water too cold?”
Barret, who had been waiting outside, pointed it out as soon as she saw him.
“No, it was warm.”
“Then why did you say it felt refreshing?”
“Good question. Why did I say that?”
Come to think of it, there was no logical way to explain it. Getting out of hot water and calling it refreshing was the very definition of a contradictory statement. Just as Bagan couldn’t understand it, neither could Barret. She didn’t press the matter any further.
Instead, she pointed out something else.
“Sir Bagan, you need to hand over the used towels if you want them washed.”
“Right.”
It was a habit left over from his previous life.
“My hair’s still wet. Let me finish this and I’ll give it to you.”
When he gave an embarrassed reply, she reached out and placed her hand near his head, then cast a spell.
Wind
A gust whipped up from her palm, just like the flames had earlier.
“I thought you could only use fire magic?”
“Fire is what I’m best at.”
Surprised and impressed, Bagan watched his hair flutter and dry.
“Do people usually use magic to dry their hair?”
The question had genuinely come to him. Did she use magic every time she dried her own hair? But her answer was ice-cold.
“Not necessarily. I only showed you because you seemed fascinated by magic.”
“That was unnecessary. I dry my hair with a towel like a normal person.”
Bagan felt oddly offended, as if she were mocking him.
“That’s a relief. Then please make sure to dry your hair properly with a towel from now on.”
She refused to yield even an inch. Bagan was at a loss for words.
Is she getting revenge because I went out without telling her?
What was the big deal? Or was it because he had gone out alone? All sorts of wild thoughts crossed his mind, but he couldn’t figure out her true reason. Her expression barely changed, and her tone remained perfectly even.
“That’s enough. Stop. My hair’s going to blow away.”
At Bagan’s words, she canceled the spell and snatched the towel from his hands. Then she asked,
“How would you like to handle dinner?”
“It’s fine. It’s late, so I’m just going to rest.”
“Understood.”
With that, Bagan left Barret behind and returned to his room.
Recently, Bagan had been traveling back and forth between the mansion and the Zairan Forest, steadily building his strength. He had grown familiar with both Absorption and Release, and could now use them more freely than he had in the game.
Yet today he remained indoors, a faint look of dissatisfaction on his face.
I want to use magic.
Ever since he had learned a few days ago that Barret was a mage, the thought had lingered in his mind. He didn’t know exactly how skilled she was, but he knew she was at least capable of teaching him. Even a 1st-circle mage could teach the basics, after all.
Not to mention any hints about forming circles.
No mage had ever formed a circle by accident. It required grueling effort. The same would be true for Barret. If she was a mage, she should be able to teach him magic.
Should I ask her?
He could already imagine how she would look at him, but this was exactly the kind of situation where he needed to be shameless. To Bagan, strength was a matter of survival, and learning magic would make an enormous difference.
Let’s do it.
He had deliberated long enough. Any more hesitation and he would only talk himself out of it. It would be far better to risk her giving him a strange look.
“Barret, are you there?”
Bagan called out to her carefully.
“Did you call for me?”
He had known she was nearby. After all, she was his exclusive maid. Aside from when he was sleeping, she remained close at all times.
“Come in. I have something to ask you.”
She had been waiting just outside the door. At his permission, she opened it and stepped inside.
“Perhaps…”
“Do you desire my body?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if you want my body.”
Bagan was thrown off by her direct question.
“Ah, well… that wouldn’t necessarily be bad—”
“It is not allowed.”
For a split second he had actually been tempted. Bagan quickly regained his senses.
“And why isn’t it allowed?”
“Barret belongs to Lord Palamus. It cannot happen without his permission.”
“Never mind. That’s not what I wanted anyway.”
“Then I am relieved. What did you wish to ask?”
The conversation hadn’t gone exactly as planned, but Bagan got to the main point.
“You wouldn’t be willing to teach me magic, would you?”
He spoke carefully for good reason. Palamus probably hadn’t given permission. He was nervous about what she might say.
“That… should not be a problem.”
“Huh?”
“I will teach you.”
“Why?”
“So you won’t have to heat the bathwater or dry your own hair, correct?”
That wasn’t exactly the reason, but it was a good enough excuse.
“That works too.”
“It will make my own work easier.”
It was an extremely pragmatic decision. For Bagan, however, it was perfect. The moment she agreed, he sprang to his feet.
“How do we start?”
He had asked too bluntly. Bagan immediately regretted it. Yet Barret’s expression remained unchanged.
“Follow me. There is a suitable space for practice.”
She moved ahead, and Bagan followed. From his room on the second floor, they descended to the first, then took a passage beneath the stairs that led to a rear exit. He hadn’t even known such a passage existed.
Outside was a vast open space. It didn’t feel like a cave at all—neither dark nor damp, with a perfectly flat floor. It felt more like an entirely separate dimension.
While Bagan was still taking it in, Barret turned to face him.
“Then let us begin.”
Without further warning, she declared,
“Fireball.”
Fireball
It was absurd. He had asked her to teach him magic, and she immediately hurled a spell at him—a 4th-circle spell, no less.
“Are you insane—”
“Huff… huff… huff…”
Bagan was gasping for breath. After checking his condition, Barret asked,
“Would you like to continue?”
Swallowing the words I need to actually succeed at something first, Bagan answered,
“No. I’ll die before I ever learn any magic at this rate.”
“I had no intention of killing you.”
“Sure you didn’t. By the way, exactly how many circles are you?”
Barret answered without hesitation.
“I am a 6th-circle mage. However, having been born with an affinity for fire, I am close to 7th-circle when it comes to fire magic.”
Bagan had thought her impressive, but she was far more skilled than he had imagined. Especially the part about being near 7th-circle in fire magic—that was not something just anyone could claim. When people spoke of the strongest human mages, 8th-circle was the rank that always came up.
“Is that the level required to serve a dragon?”
“You are calling Lord Palamus ‘a dragon’ again today?”
Though she rarely showed emotion, clear displeasure surfaced in her voice.
“Lord Palamus is the father of all dragonkind. Would you please mind your words and actions in his presence?”
“Of course.”
He agreed immediately because he knew she would kill him if he didn’t. Having personally experienced her power as a grand mage, he had no choice but to comply.
After learning magic—or rather, being subjected to it—in the open training ground, Bagan returned to the mansion with slight burns covering his body.
At that moment, a voice rang out.
The enormous mansion, second to none in size, trembled as the voice pierced directly into Bagan’s mind.
“Pa-Palamus…”
The moment he omitted the honorific, faint wrinkles formed on the dragon’s face as he looked down at Bagan.
“Palamus?”
“Lord. Lord Palamus.”
Bagan barely managed to correct himself. The memory of being overwhelmed by the dragon’s fear-inducing presence was still terrifyingly vivid. Palamus’s existence was so vast that Bagan couldn’t even fully perceive it.